


amen to it and amen to us

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, fluff like a tiny bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:51:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1805941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It ended quickly and it fizzled out so easy, the sparks weren’t even there. There was no lightning and there was no shattering of glass or angry loud voices, it was there one second and gone the next. A trick of the light kind of break up a barely there kind of thing. But it was there Harry had felt it in his bone marrow. </p>
<p>Or they break up and Harry has a hard time coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	amen to it and amen to us

**Author's Note:**

> Watch [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-T4alaf96Bo) video before or after you read this because some of the concepts in this fic are based off it and it’s just so so beautiful also this is one of the most emotional things I’ve ever written in a long time and it’s personal to me and I hope it means as much to you as it means to me
> 
> You also may have read this on my tumblr.

Harry smiled at his secretary Millie, complimented her on the pretty shirt she had on, then with warming coffee in his hand and a heavy heart he pushed the door to his office open. He locked it and closed the usually open blinds so he didn’t have to see how life was moving on without him, how the weekend he had had felt so surreal now in the glare of the too bright lights of Malik Publishing and how it felt like literally everybody who looked at him could see what happened his scars on display like it was some art gallery and his suffering was symbolic.

He slid into his computer seat and threaded his long fingers into his unruly unwashed hair and let himself breathe because god knows he kept forgetting to do that. He rubbed his eyes, took a sip of his coffee black with two sugars then turned on his laptop.

He needed a distraction but it was hard when two years of his life had revolved around a barely there boy with dreams bigger than the state of Texas and smile brighter than aurora borealis on a frigid night and it was killing him.

A sudden knock on his door made him look up, Louis stepped in and Harry knew the knocking was just a formality. Louis would’ve barged in either way.

“Blinds are closed, who died?” He asked closing the door behind him. Louis worked in advertising a staggering difference to Harry’s editorial work, a more behind the scenes job but Louis liked skipping from his department to everybody else’s. It was a shock he hadn’t gotten fired but Harry kind of understood why they kept him, he was good at what he did at getting people to  _want._

“Nobody.” Harry monotonously replied, looking through his endless pile of emails and opening the ones that looked slightly interesting. He knew that they weren’t as dull as he was making it out to be but god getting out of bed this morning was such a task and Harry could barely breathe let alone edit anything. He should’ve called in sick, maybe gone uptown to visit his sister and that new guy she was seeing just anything to get away.

“Why do you look so… dead?” Louis asked setting his own coffee down and walking over to his blinds (Harry ignored the fact that  _he_  had bought it for him because apparently Harry’s office was just so boring maybe that should’ve been a sign) and opening them wide. “There, better.” Louis turned to him with a wide smile on his face and he furrowed his eyebrows when he took in Harry’s still horribly sad expression.

“Louis, go away.” Harry muttered his head sinking down onto the table.

“I’m offended like I am truly wounded.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right I’m not. I should call Niall since you’re being mean.”

And Harry knew that somebody would’ve mentioned him of course, all his friends knew Niall everybody knew Niall, Harry and Niall had been  _harryandniall_  for two damn years why did he think he could avoid hearing the name but it still… it still felt like somebody had just stuck him in a defective elevator going down faster than he could try to jump from it. Harry had never ever experienced heartbreak like this before.

“Did something happen with Niall?” Louis asked again after Harry didn’t reply, after he watched Harry’s hands clench on top of his head.

“No.” Nothing happened with Niall and nothing would ever happen with Niall again. Harry was pathetic, a twenty four year old boy that didn’t know how to get over a break up. God he was acting like he was sixteen like Niall had kissed his best friend or something. He was stronger than that or at least that’s what he told himself.

“I’m calling him.”

“Don’t.” Harry said instantly looking up, eyes red with anger and that kind of palpable sadness that rolled over everybody in its wake. Louis frowned and Louis rarely ever frowned and this was what Harry’s morning had become all because of a “haz, i didn’t mean it like that” and an “i never want to see again”.

It ended quickly and it fizzled out so easy, the sparks weren’t even there. There was no lightning and there was no shattering of glass or angry loud voices, it was there one second and gone the next. A trick of the light kind of break up a barely there kind of thing. But it was there Harry had felt it in his bone marrow.

“Oh my god.” Louis breathed hand coming over his mouth (ever the dramatic) and blue eyes full of that horrible pity that Harry was hoping to avoid and Harry rolled his eyes looked back at his laptop. He needed to get to work.

“See ya later, Louis.” Harry said and Louis clenched his jaw,

“We are not done talking about this.” Then he grabbed his coffee and stalked out of Harry’s office slamming the door behind him. Harry almost laughed almost cried because what was there to even talk about anymore?

—

They met when they both were twenty two, Harry fresh out of NYU an English major with a lot of words and a fresh face and Niall out of Juilliard had majored in music engineering and minored in acting. He was kind of brilliant when they had met, at a charity event that their mutual friend Cher who had way too much money was holding.

Harry had smiled at blonde hair and blue eyes over a glass of veuve clicquot and Niall had blushed over a glass of pinot noir. They’d ended up ditching the event, finding themselves in a New York City subway falling over each other slightly tipsy and giggling like high schoolers.

“I’m Niall.” Niall’d whispered when they’d both calmed down enough, when the old woman with the groceries had continued to give them dirty looks and Harry had thought about how beautiful it had sounded he thought about how when Pandora opened her box she let out all the bad things and Niall must have come out with it because the way he smiled and the way he moved it seemed like he was hell bent on ruining Harry’s hard earned sanity.

“Harry.” Harry had said looking down at him and Niall had smiled, leaned into him smelling of wine and cologne and  _now._

Harry didn’t make good decisions and maybe if he hadn’t invited Niall to his apartment building that night  _harryandniall_  would’ve just been a what-if thing but he did. And they didn’t have sex Niall just sang to him, some old song by Mcfly that Harry had probably loved in high school and Harry had smiled and said  _you are the loveliest thing i’ve ever seen in a while_ and just like that it had begun.

—

Louis, Zayn, and Perrie walked into his office hands on all their hips and grim looks on their faces like somebody had  _died_ when lunch came around. Harry huffed and stood up trying to walk past them but no way that was happening, what with Louis’ persistence, Zayn’s large eyes, and Perrie’s guilt.

“Louis told us something happened between you and Niall, hun.” Perrie said softly touching his arm looking very much the psychology minor she was. He did not need to be cross examined and autopsied he was fucking  _fine._

“Nothing happened,” he hissed, “and if you guys don’t move I’ll miss lunch.”

“We know you better than that, mate.” Zayn said looking slightly put off by Harry’s insistence to not talk.

“Why don’t you ask Niall?” Harry asked and it was the first time he’d actually said his name out loud since Saturday and it just sounded so wrong.

“Why don’t you stop being a brat?” Louis asked pouting.

“Did you guys fight? All couples fight.” Perrie said and she was right all couples did fight but Niall and Harry were not all couples. Harry couldn’t even remember a time when he was angry with Niall or when he even mildly annoyed him. It was Niall and Niall  ~~is~~  was everything to him.

“Niall and I are no longer a couple.” Harry said stony and slow like he was talking to toddlers. And he pushed past them before they could even ask questions before they could wonder what the hell happened because Harry didn’t even know himself.

—

Harry wondered when Niall would come to collect all his things. Harry’s apartment had slowly become _harryandniall’s_ apartment over the years. Two toothbrushes were in his bathroom cabinet and clothes that weren’t his (but he wore anyway) were in his drawers in his room, food that he didn’t eat was in his refrigerator, and shows that he didn’t watch (but was forced to) was on his Netflix.

He couldn’t escape.

He stripped out of his work outfit, got into sweatpants and a loose fitting tee and grabbed the moleskin from his desk. Page after endless fucking page was Niall this and Niall that and even his thoughts couldn’t help. Through cloudy eyes he looked at one poem he’d written half asleep when Niall had gone to visit his family in Ireland after his grandma had that stroke, where it was all smudged ink and barely made out words but god it had meant everything to Niall.

He remembered how Niall had tattooed  _god made man and then he made you,_  where only Harry could see. He remembered Niall’s soft, “do you like it?” As if it was even a question then as if there was any way that Harry couldn’t like it, as if the amount of atoms that Niall was made of wasn’t enough for Harry.

The mere thought of being in love with something so docile and soft yet lively and jagged was the most precious thing Harry had ever thought.

—

He woke up at three am to a violent knocking on his door; he had fallen asleep on the couch because it would have simply been suicide to fall asleep on the bed. His sleep addled mind stumbled to open the door fingers all out of sorts when Liam, Niall’s best friend pushed himself in turning on the light and causing Harry to flinch away.

“Where the fuck is he?” Liam hissed in his face, grabbing the front of Harry’s shirt.

“Wha-?”

“Niall, where is Niall?” Harry almost laughed at the absurdity of the fucking question as if Harry himself had sculpted all of Niall’s beauty only to be able to catch it whenever he pleased. It didn’t work that way but Harry wished it did.

“I don’t fucking know where Niall is.” He hissed pushing the hand off.

“What did you do to him?”

Harry laughed and he knew it was a bad move on his part but god what was this? When did his life become some Days Of Our Lives bullshit, he was fairly certain that these things didn’t happen at three in the morning he was almost certain that he’d never see Niall or anybody that had anything to do with Niall ever again. But the whole universe was against him forgetting.

“Answer me!” Liam roared, Harry thought of his neighbors but he didn’t like them anyway so he didn’t mind.

“Niall and I aren’t together so… I wouldn’t know where Niall is.”

“Who do you fucking think you are, Harry Styles? Who gave you the right to do that to him?”

Harry thought about “i never want to see you again” and he closed his eyes,

“Niall did it to himself. I was just speeding up the process.” And Liam punched him hard and remorseless and his face danced with the impact and he fell back onto his couch, thought about the dozen times him and a drunken Niall would stumble in together in each other’s arms and drunk off New York City and a lover. Harry threw his arms out as if he was grasping for something but all he received was air and a slamming door.

Niall was still not there in the morning and it was all too real.

—

He went two weeks without seeing Niall. Harry didn’t call him, didn’t text him nor did he get a call or a text from him. His things remained and his friends didn’t comment it was obvious they weren’t getting answers. He threw himself into his work, into editing a story he barely cared about and writing things he knew.

He wrote about the day after and how it felt like the only nightmare you’d ever had tied an anchor around your ankles and threw you to the sea, how the nights felt like days and the days felt like nights and it didn’t get better.

The pain didn’t make him feel good, it was just pain.

He thought about Niall’s dogs and the way Niall took care of them, the way Niall took care of everybody and he thought about that one summer when he and Niall had gone to Boston where Harry’s mother and stepfather had lived and how they had sat on the docks feet touching the water and pressing butterfly kisses and real kisses to each other’s skin.

He thought about Niall’s songs and his guitar strumming at five in the morning, thought about how much Niall had wanted to matter and Harry could see that no matter how much times Harry told Niall he mattered it wasn’t enough.

Maybe that was the sign of the cannonball in their ship. Maybe Niall’s faraway looks and dim eyes and big wayward heart was a sign for Harry to back off but god all he wanted was to grow old with the boy who wanted him. Why was it so much to ask to wake up with one person his whole life, why was it so much to want?

Harry tried to ignore the engagement ring hidden in his closet but fuck, it was like a stab to the heart.

—

He got the email three weeks later sitting in his office, lunch in front of him and trying to edit as hard as possible and niallh@ymail.com popped up and Harry couldn’t breathe he just clicked on it breath held and food forgotten about. It felt like the thing took ages to load but he knew he was being ridiculous and when he finally got the email he swallowed and stared.

_Harry, my love, I don’t know if I am allowed to call you that anymore don’t know if I have earned the privilege yet but god I miss you. I am not as good with words as you are but please listen to the thing i wrote you. I am so sorry for what I caused, I didn’t mean to put a bullet through your heart, darling. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I miss you so fucking much._

Harry clicked on the attachment on whatever it was that Niall had sent his heart beating in his chest. He wiped at his eyes hands shaking a horrible amount. He was not as strong as he made himself out to be.

It was an audio and Harry could hear some shuffling and then Niall’s voice, his wonderful voice and his words so free,

“Hi, Harry,” Niall on the audio said and Harry wanted to cry (he was halfway there anyway) Niall did not have the right to say his name like that, like Harry had meant the moon and the stars to him he wasn’t allowed to say it like Harry did Niall’s, “I’m in California and god it is not as beautiful as you are,” Niall said and then he laughed watery and sad breaking Harry’s resolve, “but I wrote you this and I hope… I hope that you still love me. I hope I didn’t fuck things up.”

Harry could hear the strumming of Niall’s guitar and him clearing his throat a dozen times like he did when he was insanely nervous and then he was singing. Clear and voice a little hoarse but like nothing Harry had ever heard before.

Harry pressed his knuckles to his eyes to keep his tears at bay as Niall sang like this right here, this was the last time he’d ever get to do it like this song this beautiful beautiful thing that Harry was not deserving of was the only thing that could save him.

Harry had never heard someone make him sound so wonderful. Harry wanted nothing more than his boy home with him not off gallivanting in another city trying to find himself as if the years they spent together could be forgotten with a couple of beautiful people and beaches.

They were more than half assed love notes passed in a high school class they were more than whatever fucking vows a wedding could give them, they were legendary they were Icarus flying far too close to and getting third degree burns all because they wanted to be more than they ever were, they were gods and  _fuck,_  Harry needed Niall and Niall needed Harry and Harry didn’t care if Niall was a tiny bit broken Harry didn’t care if Niall had spent his whole life pushing because it was so hard to pull and Harry hoped- god- he hoped that Niall could accept his scars, Harry hoped that the two years spent in a bed that would never lose their scent could mean something.

So with hands shaking more than the San Andreas Fault he typed up a quick email: _please come back to me._  And then he went to work.

—

It was like this was it; this was the final call for whatever game they had been playing. Harry had heard that absence made the heart grow fonder and it was true in this backwards sense but god there was no room for him to even grow more fond, Niall was it for him he didn’t need the absence.

So when he walked into his apartment two days later heart heavy in his chest from too much hope and not enough to back it up he almost keeled over right there when he saw Niall all baby blue eyes and skinny arms sleeping on his couch.

There was his sun and his moons and his comets, there was his heart and his veins and his arteries god dammit so he crawled onto the couch wrapped his arms around skinny shoulders and pressed soft kisses to blonde hair.

And that night when they undressed each other Harry pressed his fingers to  _god made man and then he made you_ and it all came together, no screaming and no sobbing. It was always like that with them. There was no need for dramatics, it was just them. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Personal Blog](http://talklovelytome.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Writing Blog](http://my-hummingbirdheart.tumblr.com/)


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